


The Fourth Annual Start of Term Buns and Melons Breakfast

by cjmarlowe



Series: Life Is Waiting For You [8]
Category: Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: AU, Coming Out, Exhibitionism, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Public Nudity, Voyeurism, humiliation (in public), kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-31
Updated: 2010-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjmarlowe/pseuds/cjmarlowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris didn't count on a ritual being involved when he moved into his new place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fourth Annual Start of Term Buns and Melons Breakfast

Kris laced his hands behind his head and bounced and wiggled on the bed a little, getting a feel for it. His furniture and belongings were sparse but at least he had this: a brand new bed, his first since he was twelve, and his parents' old dresser that had been sitting in the garage for the past few years. His books were piled in a corner, desperately in need of a bookcase, but that could wait a few days.

"I told you this place would be cool."

Ryland and Steve were friends of Cale's, not Kris's, but they he'd met them a few times before and they seemed pretty cool. When their old roommates graduated and moved onwards and upwards (for a certain value of upwards, anyway; it was hard for Kris to imagine a life's ambition in sales) it seemed the ideal solution to Kris and Cale's housing dilemma. It was different living off campus than living in the dorms, but Kris thought he was going to like it better. Even if it meant doing things for himself, like grocery shopping and vacuuming.

Well, maybe not vacuuming.

"Yeah, it seems cool," said Kris, wiggling a little more. The bed was going to take some getting used to. It needed breaking in. "They seem cool."

"Apparently we're not supposed to let them give us too much of a hard time," said Cale. "I'm not sure what that means, but I figure we can handle it. They're not that big."

"Easy for you to say," said Kris, and wished he had something to toss at him. He was glad to be living with Cale again, but it was going to be weird not being in the same room. Weird in both a good way and a bad way. Kris was happy to have his space again, especially after a summer of getting used to that back home, but he'd kind of gotten used to Cale being in his.

Cale being in his space was goodtimes.

"So I told my parents," he said. It probably seemed like it was out of the blue, but Kris could trace the thought process back to figure out how he got there.

"That...you're moving off campus?" said Cale. "I think they already knew that. Your brother helped you move the dresser in."

"About guys," said Kris.

"Oh wow," said Cale. "You know, it was just...we were just fooling around. It didn't have to be a thing. It was just you and me."

"Actually, it wasn't just you and me," said Kris. He hadn't been entirely sure about that before going home for the summer—well, he had, but he hadn't even quite admitted it to himself—but he was sure about it now. "It's fine. They were great."

"Wait, so...who else?" said Cale, pushing himself up onto one elbow and suddenly super interested. "Really?"

"A guy this summer," said Kris. "And you know. In my head. You're pretty exceptional, but you weren't an exception to the rule or something."

"So are you dating him?"

"Nah, no," said Kris quickly. "I was just a vacation thing, you know? Fun while it lasted, but never meant to be anything more."

"You had a fling," said Cale, and grinned at him before lying back. Kris thought he shouldn't be so enthusiastic about someone else's sex life, but maybe he was just seeing it as some sort of rite of passage. Maybe he saw it as Kris taking the reins of his life and figuring out what he wanted to do and be.

"Yeah, I guess," said Kris. "I guess I did. It was pretty cool. He was a good guy."

"So are you going to tell me about him?" said Cale. "Or is he going to be one of those great mysteries of life?"

"You say that like my life is full of secrets," said Kris. "He was just this guy. We jammed together and hung out together and...did other stuff together. Not necessarily in that order."

"Name?" suggested Cale. "Tell me you at least got a name."

"Dave," said Kris, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. They spent over a week together. It would've been hard to do that without exchanging names. "Not much else to tell. But after that, I figured I needed to tell my parents sooner or later, and picked sooner. I hate having stuff hanging over my head like that. I'm a terrible liar."

"You really are," agreed Cale. "I like that about you. Except when I'm trying to get you to lie for me."

"You've never actually tried to get me to lie for you," Kris pointed out.

"Well, I've thought about it," said Cale, "but then I remembered you were a terrible liar and gave up on the idea."

"So I'm keeping you honest, then," said Kris, and casually let the conversation move on. "Is all your stuff moved in?"

"Yeah, I think so," said Cale. "I've got a pile of boxes by the wall, but they'll keep for a few days." Or a few weeks, as the case may be. Kris is pretty sure Cale kept a box in his closet in the dorm that he never actually unpacked all year.

"I'm going to unpack tomorrow," said Kris, even though he was mostly unpacked already just by virtue of putting his room together. All he had left really were clothes and a few random things he shoved in boxes right before he left. "I want to get it done before classes start."

"That's because you're weird," said Cale. "Who can concentrate with all that neatness and order?"

"I just want to worry more about getting my readings done than trying to find clean underwear," said Kris. "It's a matter of priorities."

"You have your priorities and I have mine," said Cale, giving him an elbow in the side.

Which got him an elbow in return, which quickly devolved into an impromptu wrestling match, which neither of them let get too far because there were some things you figured you probably shouldn't do on your first night in a new apartment with new roommates. At least, not in such an obvious way.

"You should probably kick me out soon," said Cale. "It's late."

"I'd never kick you out," said Kris. "Actually, I totally would, but only if I had good reason. Like company."

"Well, then I should probably kick myself out soon," said Cale. "Your first night in a new place, I should give you a chance to get used to it."

Cale really probably could've fallen asleep on the other side of Kris's bed and he'd hardly have noticed, but maybe he was right about settling into their new place. Not that Kris felt like he needed much settling in personally, but feeling out their roommates might not be a bad idea before inviting sleepovers, innocent or otherwise.

"Careful getting off the bed," said Kris, "I think I left a couple of pairs of shoes there."

"Ow, ow, yes, yes, you did," said Cale, stumbling over his first step. "Night, Kris. Welcome back."

"Good to be here," said Kris, and gave him a little wave as he slipped out the door, closing it behind himself.

He lay awake for a little while, staring at the ceiling and then staring out the window and trying to get used to the idea that this was _his_ room and _his_ home, but eventually sleep overtook him. He finally slipped under the covers and turned his lamp off and was asleep before he even remembered anything else.

"Rise and shine!"

Kris cracked his eyes open, snuffled into his pillow, and tried to ignore the voice in his bedroom. _His_ bedroom. His home.

"None of that," it said, though, and didn't disappear no matter how much Kris tried to will it away. "Time to haul those buns out of bed."

He finally cracked an eye open and looked at the blurry figure in the doorway. He figured out it was Ryland and not Steve by the hair color only. He still wasn't sure what they were doing in his bedroom. Bedrooms were not public space.

"Don't think I don't see you," he persisted. "It's tradition. Get up and get out here. Everyone's waiting."

Kris groaned, but he finally did push the covers back and make his first tentative motions towards rolling out of bed. He couldn't make out the numbers on his alarm clock until he groped for his glasses, but he already knew it was Way Too Early o'clock.

He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a soft, well-worn t-shirt and stumbled out of the room to figure out just what was going on here. At least nobody else seemed to be dressed up to go out anywhere.

"Do I smell breakfast?"

"Breakfast is al fresco today," said Ryland. Kris wasn't entirely sure what that meant, especially before he'd entirely woken up, but he gestured at the back door and Kris guessed that meant they were eating outside. Okay. Whatever.

They called the place a triplex but what it really was was a duplex with a basement apartment, eight occupants total assuming the guy in the basement lived alone, which Kris wasn't entirely sure of yet and nobody'd been entirely clear about. There could be a whole cult down there with Matt as its figurehead and he wouldn't know it.

All of them were there in the backyard when Kris stumbled out the doors. Even Cale, who looked as lost—if a little bit more awake—than Kris.

"You guys do this often?" he said, yawning and stretching and actually feeling a little _over_ dressed for this party. Solely by virtue of the fact that he and Cale were the only ones wearing pants.

"Oh, today's a special occasion," said Steve, looking pointedly at Kris's pants. Kris already felt a little awkward under all of the attention, Steve's but not _only_ his. "It's our annual start-of-term breakfast."

"Is there someplace we post notices about this kind of thing?" said Cale. "Maybe a corkboard, or the far side of the fridge?"

"Next year you'll know," said Ryland, with amused indifference. "Now. Eggs? Bacon? Toast? Well, maybe not toast, it got a little scorched on the barbecue."

"Uh, sure," said Kris, pushing his glasses up off his nose to rub at the corners of his eyes. It was really much to early for anyone to be looking that perky, let alone all of them. It was kind of weird that they must've been looking forward to this.

"Sure, great, said Ryland, "but first, your shirt."

"My...what?"

"Your shirt," said Ryland. "Take your shirt off and you'll get some food."

"I'm really not...entirely comfortable with that," said Kris, nervously scratching his side through the shirt. "I like shirts. Shirts are good."

"Only Megan and Alexis get a shirt exception," said Anoop, grabbing a handful of Kris's shirt. "What are you hiding anyway? Do you look weird under there? Do you have a parasitic twin?"

"Do I _what_?" said Kris, though his eyes went immediately to Megan and Alexis. They didn't have shirts so much as bras—or in Alexis's case a camisole—but the principle remained.

"Come on, show us what you've got," said Megan, but Kris clung stubbornly to his shirt even as Cale quite happily stripped his off and tossed it on the railing, spreading his arms wide in openness and triumph. But no one wanted to pick on the guy who was happy to go along with it.

"I'm not deformed," said Kris, "I'm just modest."

"Not today you aren't," said Anoop. "What, you don't think the rest of us had to go through this when we moved in? Now come on, strip down and let's get on with the festivities."

"And by 'festivities', what he means is 'breakfast'," said Matt.

The worst part, the worst, was that all the attention on him was making him as hard as it was embarrassed. Or maybe the embarrassed was making him hard. Did it really even matter when the primary goal this morning seemed to be to get his clothes off?

It wouldn't be a big deal if everyone wasn't making it a big deal, but they were all watching him now as he finally peeled off his shirt.

"Aw, it's just a little bit of pudge," said Megan, poking him in the side. "You're adorable."

"Shut up," he mumbled, and went ahead and took his sweats off just to get it all over with at once. He pushed his glasses up his nose again when he was done and standing there in his boxers just like everyone else. "There'd better be a reward for this."

"Of course, as the newest residents, you've both got one more layer to let go of," said Ryland. "Come on, boys. Drop 'em."

"What? No way," said Kris, and he could _tell_ he was getting redder than he already was. He could actually feel his skin getting hot. He was starting to understand the warning about his new roommates a lot better. Having breakfast in their underwear, okay, Kris could get with that since everyone else was doing it too. But not naked. "No one needs to see my junk at breakfast."

"You know it'll happen eventually," said Steve. "One morning you'll just come wandering out and there it'll be, out on display. We like to get these first times out of the way on day one so when you're stumbling and hung over it's no big deal."

"Really?" said Kris. "So really, this is all for our benefit?"

"Absolutely," said Steve. He didn't even try to keep a straight face. "Cale, show him how it's done."

Even Cale looked pretty uncertain about this one, but for all that he was pretty straight-laced in a lot of ways, Cale was fearless. Cale did his thing and he wasn't embarrassed by it. So a few moments later he just up and dropped them, to the applause of all involved.

"Cale gets bacon," said Ryland, as everyone else started helping themselves to food too. "No bacon for you."

But the thing was, Kris couldn't drop 'em. His boxers did a really good job of hiding what was going on down there, even if his full-body flush was now on display, but once he dropped them it as all going to be out there.

"Is there an option to skip breakfast?" he said, playing with the waistband of his shorts. But not so much that the head might slip out by accident, which seemed a more imminent possibility than normal.

"Not if you want to sleep easy at night," said Steve, and Kris absolutely believed him when he said it. If he skipped this ritual, there would be repercussions.

"Come on, it's no big deal," said Cale, now firmly entrenched on the wrong side of this battle. "Unless the neighbors can see. The neighbors can't see, right?"

"Not unless they sit on their roof," said Ryland. "You might be in danger from passing helicopters, but the good thing is you can hear them coming."

"I fear no helicopters," said Cale, and braved one of the pieces of scorched toast.

Kris feared no helicopters either. His problem was something else entirely. If he didn't do this soon then someone was probably doing to do it for him. When he thought about them just yanking his shorts off, exposing for everyone what he'd desperately been trying to hide, he just got _harder_.

"Okay, I will," he said finally. "I will. I just need a glass of cold water first. My mouth is all dry. I'll be right back."

He didn't wait for permission before turning tail and heading right back into the ground-floor apartment again, straight through the kitchen and right to the bathroom, panting over the sink and trying to get his shit together so he could go through with this exercise in humiliation and get it over with.

Kris didn't know he was followed until he heard Ryland's voice behind him. "I hope you don't think that was subtle."

He banged his head against the wall out of some combination of sexual frustration and mortification. "You get a guy out of bed at the crack of dawn and you don't expect him to have issues to deal with?"

"That's part of the fun of it," said Ryland. "Go on, don't mind me, go ahead and take care of it."

"Are you kidding?" said Kris, but he looked at him and Ryland was standing there in the door frame and he wasn't going anywhere. "I can't."

"Hey, I have to supervise to make sure you don't put your clothes back on before we finish the ceremonial breakfast. I would be derelict in my duties if I left you alone in here."

Kris weighed going around all morning with a throbbing dick in his shorts—no, not even _in_ his shorts; it would be bobbing around for everyone to see—against taking care of it with Ryland right there. Hours of discomfort versus a few minutes—if that, at this point—of mortified jerking off. A rock and a hard place if there ever was one.

He didn't say anything when he made his decision, just took a deep breath and pushed his boxers down just as far as he needed to with one hand while grabbing his cock with his other. He absolutely did not look at Ryland as he jerked off, hard and fast, but he could hear him breathing and the whole time he was doing it he _knew_ Ryland was there, and probably watching.

The rush of blood to his face didn't take anything away from the rush of blood to his cock. It definitely took a lot less than the few minutes he'd estimated.

At least he didn't spray everywhere and have to clean it up, catching most of it with his hand and only having to wipe up his chest a little with some toilet paper. And then splash himself with water from the sink and dry off completely because there was no way he was going out there with any evidence of what he'd just done.

"I can't believe I just did that," Kris muttered as he dropped his shorts on the bathroom floor and stepped of them. "All right. Those fences better be as high as you say they are."

"Unless our neighbors are eight feet tall, you're golden," said Ryland. "And that was impressive, by the way. I should've timed it."

"We're never talking about that, right?" said Kris. "Ever?"

"We'll see," said Ryland as he pushed the back door open, and it was to universal applause that Kris reentered the back yard, everything on display. He headed straight to the food and tried not to look at anyone.

"I'm not even going to ask you what you did to get him out of his pants," said Steve to Ryland, "but whatever it was, I applaud you, my friend."

Kris blushed and hoped it wasn't starting up all over again.


End file.
